


A Timely Invitation

by FateNowLiesDownYonderPath



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-02-27 07:32:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13243485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FateNowLiesDownYonderPath/pseuds/FateNowLiesDownYonderPath
Summary: Work's wrapping up for the year for both Strike and Robin when they're offered an invitation they can't refuse.





	1. A timely invitation

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry people, I know we're post Christmas but I really wanted to write something cutesy.  
> I promise the next two chapters will be full of gushy fun and sweetness. And just maybe a separate follow up story.

It was the Wednesday before Christmas. The darkness of afternoon had slipped stealthily along Robins desk. The light of her computer screen shone light and luminous against her soft features. After typing for a solid fifteen minutes, her fingers came to an abrupt stop. These had been the last notes needed to finalize her last case before taking a six-day break. And it was done, she hadn’t rushed the outcome, or skipped corners to finish up early, it had just panned out that way. Wardle would no doubt be pleased, this had been the fifth case since working for Cormoran where their paths have crossed and five out five have been positive outcomes. 

She was sitting back in her chair re reading through the notes that she’d just finished when she realized she was smiling. She had noticed recently that it happened unconsciously whenever she heard the familiar sound of Cormoran thumping up the stairs, or his voice if he was cursing after tripping over a grocery bag which generally contained a combination of takeout and beer, but this time he was sounding rather jovial with whom was on the other end of his phone conversation. Robin had stretched her arms out in front of her, clasping her hands, her eyes lingering on her bare finger when the outer office door opened. 

Strikes voice boomed across the dark silent room. He fumbled for the light switch while plastic bags full of what looked like Chinese take away swung awkwardly from his wrist. “Absolutely, count me in” He said, quickly dropping the volume of his voice to match the environment he was now in, rather than the bustling street he had just come from. “I’ll have a drink at the Met's expense for sure.” Strike paused for a moment looking directly at Robin, who had giving him a nod of acknowledgement, quickly working out he was speaking with. “Hang on a sec Wardle, she’s here now, I’ll ask her.” Strike pulled the phone down from his ear, smothering it to his chest. "Wardles asking us for drinks tomorrow night, to celebrate another case closed.” He raised his thick eyebrows and gave his head a quick tilt, a gesture Robin had learnt very early on in their working relationship was his way of showing he was in agreement of whatever it was that was being suggested. “It’s at the Met's expense.” He emphasized with a grin. 

“Sure, yeah, I’m in.” Robin smiled back.

“Yeah, Wardle, you there, we’ll meet you there, just text me the details, oh and just a warning, now that Robins confirmed, you’d better ask them to increase the tab.” He said mockingly, catching her shock horror look, he gave a subtle wink and a cheeky smile, “Yeah, an extra ten quid will be plenty.” And with a soft laugh, he hung up. He looked over at Robin and caught her squinting defiance. “One day, Mr Cormoran Strike, I’ll show you…” She was stuck for words, she knew that she was a light weight and that he had been witness to this on more than one occasion. “What?” he interjected, “That you’re capable of standing after three wines.” He’d come around to stand behind her, skimming over her detailed notes. His voice took on a more serious tone, to show admiration. “But, and I’m aware that this is becoming a common statement, but each time no less acknowledged than the last, but bloody good work Robin, your work is invaluable.” He gave her chair a slight rock from side to side as he lent heavily on it.

“Thanks.” She replied humbly, before turning in her chair to look at him, a mischief grin played on her lips. “But what, not quite deserving of a dress from Vashti?” It was her turn to mock and laugh. “Just kidding about the dress, but seriously, have you done any Christmas shopping yet? You know Lucy will be expecting you to buy for the boys at least.”

Strike took in a deep sigh “No, not yet, I will though.” He glanced out at the dark through the office window, the smell of his favorite Chinese wafting up to his nostrils and knew that he’d written the rest of this day off. “I have one last evidence drop off to a client first thing in the morning over at Knightsbridge, then I have a few days to get organized.” He said with a look of dread, knowing that he’ll be just one of thousands of others scrambling for last minute gifts. His previous cheer all but sucked out of him. Robin watched as he walked sullenly into his office.

Part of the reason for Strikes sudden change of mood was the realization that he would be alone, or more to the point, without Robins company over the few days of Christmas. She’d been talking about spending it with her family for weeks, and below all his selfish frustrations, he knew that she needed a break, she needed and indeed deserved to have her mind taken off of work but he was not looking forward to her absence. Luckily, she’d agreed to go the pub for a celebration drink. And, no, there wouldn’t be a green dress from Vashti but Strike reckoned he could surprise her non-the less.


	2. Moments of Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike has finished his last case of the year. He's dreading having to do Christmas shopping but all that changes with one little five letter word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it's just the season but Robin and Strikes relationship is determined to break free from the restraints they have both been protecting. After all, why keep denying it when it's so bloody obvious.

Over the past few months, Robin’s affections towards her partner in business had taken a new direction, her thoughts had drifted down a murky path, a path where shadows threatened to engulf her, feelings of desire and curiosity, for she hadn’t kissed a man with a beard but somehow the want to was becoming irritable. Despite his disability she has always seen Cormoran as a strong man, a man who didn’t like to waste words. For the most part, she had learnt how to read him. Sometimes there was nothing more than a slight nod, or a discrete glance in her direction, at times he would raise an eyebrow; but almost all body language was subtle. It was because of these observations Robin had made over the years, that had also been how she found it so irresistibly simple to catch him off guard. It surprised her, considering the extent of his intimate relationships. The women who he’d dated have all been, bold, confident, striking women, yet the slightest touch or affectionate gesture would have him flustered. For instance, just last week, she decided to test the waters. She’s accidentally on purpose missed doing the middle button on her blouse, he had glanced on more than one occasion that she had seen but he was far too embarrassed to mention anything, possibly hoping that she’d notice it. It was only when she went to leave the office to pick up some milk that he’d pretended to spot it for the first time and make a very subtle gesture towards her with a finger; the same way you would if you were letting someone know that their trouser fly was down. She just grinned appropriately and fastened the button. So… how could she resist a little teasing, especially when he would already be way out of his comfort zone. 

Robin thought this to be only fair, due to the amount of times Cormoran had made her blush. It was ten past nine the following morning. The sky was clear although Robin wouldn’t have gone as far as to suggest it was sunny, more that the clouds were yet to make an appearance. 

She crossed over the set of lights leading onto Knightsbridge. Expensive shops and department stores lined the road. Elaborate Christmas lights glimmered as they hung delicately between the buildings. Robin had glanced through the file that had been on Cormoran’s desk before he had filed it into the draw labelled ‘Completed’.

Strike stood on the steps of his client’s house. He exchanged a hand shake to a grateful mother and ruffled the hair on a young teens head, along with the statement “Don’t worry about it kid, you did the right thing, lesson learnt, yeah?” The young lad Damien offered Strike a firm hand shake, but his thanks remained sheepish. Meanwhile the house next door was teaming with police officers. Detectives on the scene gave strict instructions, as other officers came from the house carrying large plastic forensic bags, full of computer software and any other evidence that could be used to put this pervert away. 

Strike had been hired by Damien’s Mother because she had found out that their neighbor had threatened her son. Apparently, the neighbor had evidence of Damien selling drugs, as it turned out the neighbor did. Damien had stupidly bought a small amount of pot and in their back garden had halved it and sold to his friend, the scum bag next door Arnold had recorded this transaction and kept it up his sleeve to use as a hush bribe if he needed it, which a week later he did and he threatened Damien he go to the police if Damien told anyone what he had seen, anyway, no one would believe him because he didn’t have any proof.

Damien had never been in trouble with the law before and was scared, so he confessed to his Mum who then hired Strike.

It had taken Strike just on a week to have enough evidence to have Arnold's house and secrets torn apart. Arnold had a keen interest in tiny video recording devices that sent live video feeds back to his mobile. He’d positioned a camera inside a tube of fencing outside a local all -girls high school pointed directly at the bus stop, mere feet from the fence and at seat height. He would then take position, sitting against a nearby tree and watch the feed as one by one young girls would sit, dangling their legs and wait for a bus, while he zoomed in up their skirts. 

The sick son of a bitch hadn’t even noticed when Strike was standing behind him, filming what he was doing, before he reached around the tree, grabbed him by the scruff, landed a solid blow below his belt to avoid a struggle and made a citizen’s arrest. It took under three minutes for a local cop to arrive, they had to hold back a chuckle as they stepped out form the patrol. Arnold was lying face down in the dirt, protesting his innocence, arms flaying while Strike was sat on his back eating half a sandwich. The following day his part in the case was completed.

Strike drew heavily on his cigarette as he made his way back to Knightsbridge tube station. He wasn’t looking forward to going back to an empty office, nor the prospect of having to do some Christmas shopping. He blew out a long sigh of smoke and started to rack his brain for the few people who he would need to buy gifts for. Only one name bought a slight smirk. This expression was still on his face when a message tone came through on his phone. He dug deep into his coat pocket and looked at the screen, Robins name was typed across the top, this caused him to extend his smirk into a full grin, ‘funny’ he thought to himself ‘I was just thinking of you’. 

He opened the message, there was just one word ‘Hello.’ His head snapped up and started looking around. It didn’t take long for him to spot her. She was standing on the other side of the road, her golden hair catching in the breeze, contrasted against her navy-blue jumper, her long slim legs exaggerated in skinny jeans and ankle boots. Strike felt the creases gather around his eyes as his grin turned to a smile. He crossed the road to meet her.

“Robin, everything alright?” He asked cautiously “Yeah, I’m fine.” She replied.   
“How’d you find me.” He’d only said this because he didn’t know what else to say without sounding delighted that he got to see her before the drinks gathering tonight, which was somehow causing butterflies in his stomach.

Robin didn’t bother answering his question, she just shot him a sideways glance, the word Investigator written all over her face. He stifled a laugh as they walked along the foot path.  
“I thought I could be your retail therapist”. She said looking hopefully at him. “Are you suggesting I need retail therapy?” He retorted with a skeptical grin. “Oh god no, I’m suggesting that you’re going to need a therapist if you’re planning on doing your Christmas shopping today, I’m just offering my services.” She stopped and stood with her back to a store front and watched for his realization to kick in. 

He turned to face her, his eyes taking in all of her face the mischief playing at the corners of her mouth, her eyes sparkling expectantly. The foot traffic on the path they were standing was increasing, he took a step towards her to make more room for an oncoming pram. “And what price would I pay for you to be my therapist?” He asked, his eyes now fixed on hers. He could see a slight rise of pink in her cheeks that caused him to show a mischievous grin of his own. Robin broke from his penetrating gaze and looked down at the pavement before she could answer “How about dinner before drinks tonight.” “Done” He had accepted a bit too quick but didn’t care, then added “But I think you’ve drawn the short straw.” He waited for her to look back up at him. Her cheeks still flushed with pink, he wanted so badly to touch her cheek with the backs of his fingers, to feel the warmth of her skin, fuck, he wanted more than she could possibly imagine. His wandering thought came to a sudden stop when he saw the amount of amusement Robin was having at his expense. “What?” He asked, a slight shake of his head, hoping that she hadn’t been reading his thoughts. 

Robin didn’t say a word, she just raised one eyebrow and gestured above her. Three, two, one and the penny had dropped, she saw his draw drop and couldn’t contain an open laugh. “Ready for therapy MR Strike?”

“Harrods?! fucking Harrods, Robin I can’t shop here!” He exclaimed. He knew that their financial status was the best it had been in ages but that didn’t mean he could afford the likes of Harrods.  
She took his elbow and guided him down the foot path. “Well you can today, they have a massive toy sale on, I spotted a popup notification on my computer yesterday.” Once he had started placing one foot tentatively in front of the other Robin reluctantly let go of his elbow.

Strike made the move to open the first door they were approaching. He felt Robins hand grip his jacket sleeve, “Umm, do you mind if we go in through the next set of doors, all those perfume smells give me headache.” She shuddered as she said this. “Sure.” He replied with a nod to show he agreed, briefly allowing his fingers to wrap over hers in a sign of sympathy. “Me too.” He said, slowly sliding his fingers from hers, “It’s the main reason I don’t like Major Department stores.” He added. Robin smiled up at him, “I love how we always manage to be on the same page.” She had turned away from him now, so had missed his nod of affection and the look in his eyes that suggesting that he was many chapters ahead of her.

They wandered through the opulence of what was Harrods in silence, entire floors devoted to soft furnishing and drapery, they crossed a large selection of quill pens that exceeded the thousand-quid mark and stationary hand crafted from Italy, before reaching the escalator that would lead them through a visual experience of ancient Egypt before depositing them on the floor that led to the Christmas extravagance that was unashamedly targeting children and their ever so submissive parents.

Walking into a Toy department in Harrods at Christmas time was like entering another world. It was a child’s version of heaven. Candy striped marry-go-rounds filled with teddy bears waiting to find a loving home, radio controlled cars left out to encourage you to pick up the controller and all the colours of Christmas. Fairy lights twinkled and Christmas songs played softly in the back ground. Strike watched Robin fondly as she waltzed through this magical wonderland. He was looking at her for one glorious moment when time seemed to slow dramatically, as if it had threatening to stand still altogether just to allow him to capture this sight to freeze frame. Robin had taken hold of a pole on the turning carousel, her body lent out, her golden hair defying gravity behind her, her face lit up in the brightest smile he’d ever remembered seeing and her eyes locked onto his, a pure vision of beauty if ever he had seen one. He was more in love that he’d realized and fuck it if it wasn’t about time that he expressed his feelings. Okay, maybe not right here in a store filled with children, that would be inappropriate, but very soon, maybe even tonight.

After an hour of laughter and thoughtful deliberation, Strike found himself at a register, happy with his purchases of Star Wars Memorabilia and the perfect gift for Nick & Ilsa, which would be a joint gift from both him and Robin. Together they excited the area, both taking fond memories with them. They passed a long roped off area, with at least fifty fidgety, neatly dressed children waiting to sit on Santa’s knee and divulge their Christmas wishes. Strike stood behind Robin on the escalator, “What would you wish for from Santa?” Strike asked, curious for her answer. Robin didn’t hesitate a beat, she turned to look at him, sweet and sincere “I would wish for more moments of happiness, moments like this.” She turned back just as the escalator reached ground floor and stepped back out into reality.

They would be heading in opposite directions when they reached the tube station. Robin had already tapped her Oyster card and passed through the barrier when she heard Cormoran call her name. Robin!” She pivoted to look for him, which to be honest, didn’t take long, he was the tallest in a sea of people. “Thanks again for the memories.’ He said with a look that he hoped she recognized as something more than mere appreciation, “You’ve been a real Light Sabre.” He allowed himself a wide smile, “Can I pick you up at five?” Robin was laughing too hard at the ridiculous pun he’d just made to answer with words so instead she blew him a kiss and waved goodbye.


	3. Let's talk about holding hands.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike and Robin go for dinner before meeting Wardle for drinks.  
> After Strike leaves Robin blushing once again, she takes it upon herself to return the favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was suppose to be chapter three of three but it just keeps expanding. The details are just too delicious to leave out. So it may take another chapter or two to complete.

Chapter 3.

Robin took one last look in the mirror before leaving her apartment. Cormoran had asked if he could pick her up at five, he had also sent through a text at 3:30 simply saying ‘Warm and Cosy’. She understood this to mean the required dress code, so she had chosen three layers accordingly. She was ready well before time, and to save Cormoran the task of climbing up two flights of stairs Robin chose to wait in the ground floor corridor. 

It was 4:50pm, the street lights shone bright against the dark sky, the threat of snow hung in the air. One thing Robin was sure of and that was, she wouldn’t be going to Masham as planned. Earlier she phoned her parents and spoke to each of them at length, explaining that there was severe weather expected for London in the next few days and that she thought it safer to be based in the one location, just in case there were any complications with transport. The truth was that after today she thought there maybe a brief chance of spending Christmas with Cormoran which appealed to her greatly. Just a slim chance was worth the risk.

**********************

Strike opened the door to ‘Bella Italia’ as a flood of mixed voices and laughter met them. He’d chosen this place, conveniently located on The Strand, not only because it was a short stroll to Embankment where they’d be meeting Wardle and a good congregation of the Met department but because it was just the right balance between a casual dinner between friends but not necessarily seen as ‘date night’. Strike stood confidently by the counter, stating his reservation for a table for two under the name of Strike.

The waitress nodded to him and led them to the set of four stairs that hosted five sets of tables that looked out over the rest of the diners. Strike immediately took the furthest side, quickly depositing his coat to the back of his chair before returning to the opposite side to hold Robins chair out for her. “Thanks” She smiled at him a little awkwardly. As they sat the waitress handed them both a drinks and meal menu, she gave them both a brief nod, “I’ll be back to take your order in a few minutes, any drinks while you wait?” She asked in a slightly rushed manner. Strike was happy to take the lead “Yeah, can we have a large pint and a small white wine please.” He folded the drinks menu and handed it back to the waitress.

The waitress had barely moved three feet away from their table when Robin stood up. Strike automatically stood himself and Robin gave a slight blush at his gesture, “Do you think we can move the table away from the wall a bit?” She asked already leaning her body weight against it. Strike helped her pull it out about a foot and watched slightly bemused as she moved her chair so she was now sitting to the side with her back to the wall. He looked at her with a tilt of his head, his face asking why but his mouth stayed closed. “I don’t like having my back to the door.” She explained but didn’t make a fuss about it, they were however, quite a bit closer than they had been, in fact their legs were now touching but neither of them adjusted their chairs to change this. He looked at her with a sense of pride “Investigator” was all he said. Robin looked around the packed restaurant “Anyway, it makes it easier for us to ‘people watch’, my favorite pass time.” She smiled.

After studying the menu and deciding on a dish, Strike looked around at the full dining room. “Mmm, where do you want to start?” He looked back at her and his eyes froze on her bare shoulders, his breath caught in his lungs. She had removed her scarf that had been wrapped around her but was now draped over the back of her chair. He allowed his eyes to linger while her gaze was directed elsewhere. The waitress returned with their drinks, he was able to reign in his wandering thoughts and steady his breathing. 

Once they had placed their orders, Traditional Lasagne for Strike and Pollo Robiola for Robin, they decided on a table to study. The two they had chosen, were a handsome couple both in their late twenties, well groomed, and immersed in humorous conversation, clearly enjoying each -others company. Without staring strike observed their behavior, their body language and facial flirtations. “What do you think?” He asked casually, “First date?”  
Robin twirled the stem on her wine glass, glancing discreetly over “No” She drew out the word, no, still pondering her own observations, “I’m thinking, second or third date, they don’t seem nervous enough for it to be a first date.” She looked at Strike waiting for him to come back with his revised opinion. “Mmm, spose so, unless they’re just good friends, or... have been good friends before they started dating.” He mused, risking a sideways look at Robin to see if she if she thought the same. “Middle ground” summarized Robin “A relatively new couple.” Strike nodded “Agreed. Next?” 

It took them just fifteen minutes to agree on all the tables, bar one. Most had been easy, there was a Mother and adult Son who looked like they met for dinner on a regular basis, judging by the age difference and lack of conversation, a couple on their anniversary, evident by the exchanging of small gifts, hand holding and footsies under the table. A small family gathering, involving an Aunt visiting from overseas, made clear by the amount of souvenir bags surrounding her chair but generally most were couples in various stages of relationships, some long term, catching up on daily life events or discussing family issues and others still in the hand holding, food sharing, newly discovered love stage. 

But there was one couple that they couldn’t quite decide on, their relationship looked professional, both looked like they’d just finished work for the day, still in business attire. They were obviously close colleagues but was there more to their relationship? “They’re not holding hands, or looking for excuses to touch, there’s no food sharing, but there’s something more than just common ground.” Robin suggested. Strike looked at them again and added “Yeah, but Ilsa and I would look similar if we were catching up to discuss a case and we’ve been friends since primary school.” Robin drained the last of her wine from her glass “I think there’s something more, the way she looks at him when he’s not watching.” Robin noted. Strike focused his attention on the guy, his body language was open, his admiration clear and his eyes lingered on her too, when she wasn’t watching. Robin and Strike both spoke at the same time. “They’re in love.” Their eyes shot to one another “But they won’t admit it.” Robin said distantly. Strikes heart thumped in his chest as he fought not to drown in her eyes “Sad” He stated solemnly “They look so good together, why fight it.” Robin felt his leg lean a little heavier against hers, her heart raced as she watched his pupils dilate. 

‘One Lasagne and one Pollo Robiola’ The waitress, Annie as it stated on her name badge was placing their food in front of them. Robin reluctantly broke away from Strikes stare, thanking the young lass. “Anythi…” Annie started to ask, before Robin accidentally interrupted. “Can we have two more of the same please.” Indicating at their empty glasses. “Sure, I’ll be right back” she said grinning. “Cormoran.” Robin spoke softly, not looking up from her pasta. “Mmm?” He replied, still looking at her. “Eat your lasagne.” 

A minute later Annie returned with their drinks, Robin took a large sip and Strike dammed near finished his in one gulp. Robin finally took the courage to look at him, her eyebrows raised, “thirsty?” Strike licked foam from the corner of his mouth, Robin was instantly drawn to this action, her eyes hovering on the scar on his top lip, instinctively she mimicked this action with her own tongue, a bright flush coloured her cheeks as she realized what she was doing and promptly returned to her pasta. 

Strike quickly brought up a change of subject, there was a slight tilt to his head as he finished a large mouthful. “So?” He gave a long deliberate pause, “When do you leave to visit your family?” It wasn’t a subject he was looking forward to talking about, knowing that she be many miles away from him. Robin looked sideways at him before studying the contents of her bowl once more. “I’m not going.” She said swiftly, popping another piece of pasta into her mouth, even though her stomach was asking her to resist it, apparently due to the butterflies taking up all the space. “Oh?” Strike asked, with a loaded fork full of lasagne, half way between bowl and mouth, opting to place the uneaten amount back in his bowl while he pondered the possibilities. “Why’s that?” He pressed. 

Robin knew there was only one real reason and it had nothing to do with the up and coming weather forecast story she had spun her parents. “I thought I might try something new this year.” She still couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, she could feel the burn in her cheeks and her pulse beating against the thin skin of her wrists. “Like what?” Strike asked, his fork now resting against the side of is bowl, no longer thinking about food, which was rare for him when it was right there, waiting to be devoured, his eyes traced from her neck to her collar bone. “That’s yet to be decided.” She sighed with a huff, pushing her bowl and its remaining contents to the side. Strike followed her lead and placed his half- finished dish to sit along- side of hers. He let her statement hang in the air for a few long seconds before making a move and holding her fidgety fingers in his own slightly shaky large hands. He pretended that his attention had been drawn to a new couple, who were showing outward signs of affection. Robin thought back to their first case of Lula Laundry, she remembered standing on the balcony from which Lula had been thrown, Cormoran had grabbed her by the arms just below her shoulders, in an attempt to re-enact a crime sequence; his hands wrapped around hers right now felt something similar. There wasn’t much difference between then and now, she still felt exhilarated by his touch, his closeness, although now, she had no reason or want for him to let go. Even though he spoke matter of fact, Robin felt that he to had an underlying reason for reaching out to her.

“How do you think we would hold hands across a table, if we were feigning a relationship?” He asked trying to make it sound like it was just a role play scenario. Robin kept her hands and fingers subtle, allowing him manipulate a number of different scenarios. “Would we intertwine?” He asked lacing his fingers between hers “I couldn’t imagine us in a hand shake position” He said smoothly, changing from one position to another. “Would I use one hand or two?” He gently picked up her hand from the table, tracing each of her trembling fingers, studying every line on her palm as though it was a work of art. “Mmm, defiantly two.” Slowly he placed her hand back on the table, he took his time removing his hand from hers, sliding his fingers from her wrist, across the back of her hand, down the length of her slender fingers, even to the point of circling over her smooth fingernails but as the tips of his fingers slipped away from hers he felt Robin re-establish the contact, placing the tips of her fingers onto the tips of his. She was finally able to release the breath that she’d been holding since he first reached for her. 

Strike was still looking down at their hands, he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt such tenderness. “Moments of happiness.” He said this as he raised his eyes to look at her, this was followed by an instant grin. “I do believe I’ve made you blush miss Ellicott.” He said unashamed of his actions.

Robin knew full well she was blushing, it was as though her entire body had risen in temperature. She had watched him silently as he’d held her trembling hands, it felt electrifying to have him touch her like this, she was in awe of how gentle he was, the size of his hands compared to hers. And although he seemed entranced by his actions, he didn’t seem to be blushing, she was thinking that maybe she didn’t have the same effect on him. What would I have to do to make him blush. So, she decided to explore one of her own curiosities.

Robin slipped her fingers from his and lent in a little closer across the table, finger by finger she touched the side of his face until her entire hand was rubbing against the grain of his beard, he didn’t move or speak, she knew he was watching her intensely but she kept her own eyes on her hand for now, she rubbed along his jaw, slid two fingers either side of his ear and let her thumb trace down his throat. She moved her fingers back across his face and placed her palm under his chin. She moved her body in even closer, so she could almost kiss him. She moved her eyes from her hand, to his closed mouth and slowly up to his eyes, his were waiting for her and she could feel a slight press against her hand like he was waiting to be kissed. She set a seductive grin on her face, she tilted her head a little but kept eye contact and whispered to him “I’m not wearing underwear.” 

She had immediate and immense satisfaction as she felt his jaw drop into her palm, his eyes wide in astonishment, a sharp gasp from his mouth and a rosiness to his cheeks that would put Santa to shame. 

Robin let go of his face with a little laugh and stood up from her chair gathering up her scarf and coat. “Why, MR Strike, I do believe I’ve made you blush.” He sat there in stunned silence. Still standing Robin placed her hands on the table and leaned in a little to him. “Of course, you know I’m joking.” She said lining her face up with his to look him in the eye, “But it is nice to know that I’m capable of making you blush too.” She watched him snap out of his trance. “Touché.” He said reaching for his beer. “Shall we go?” she asked. He looked at her slightly embarrassed “Um, I’m going to need to stay seated for a bit.” Robin was puzzled for a second then realized his jaw dropping wasn’t the only reaction her words had had on him. “Oh.” Her cheeks red once more “Well, um, I’ll just pop down stairs to the bathroom, while um…” She placed her things back on her chair and walked away with far more satisfaction that she had ever anticipated. 

They left the busy restaurant and joined the crowd of people, moving single file towards the tube station that led to Embankment. There wasn’t an opportunity for conversation as they struggled just to keep track of each other. They passed through the tube station and exited out looking over the Thames, the London Eye glowing blue across the river. “Bloody hell.” Exclaimed Robin, “I didn’t expect it to be that busy on a Thursday, at least it’s a bit quieter along here.” She pulled her coat tighter around her and adjusted her scarf to keep the wind out. Strike looked at her sideways “I see you got my text then.” He said adjusting his own coat. “Oh, is that what you meant?” she said throwing her own sideways glance “I thought you were self- advertising.” She repeated the three words “Warm and Cosy.” She gave a small inward laugh and nudged his arm with hers. “Ha ha” He mocked “Very funny.” They were standing by the side of the pub boat, Tattershall Castle ready to board. Blue and white police tape decorated the railings, while raucous laughter erupted from below decks. Strike took one last pull on his cigarette before stepping on it. “Robin, can I ask you for a promise?” He sounded cautious. “Well, that’s a bit presumptuous isn’t it?” she said teasingly before adding “Sorry, must be the wine, what is it?” Strike raised his voice a little to be heard over the thump of the music that had started “At the first sign of Karaoke, we’re out of here.” “Oh, hell yes, promise made.”


	4. No time like the present.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stoke of luck provides Strike with a perfect opportunity to express his feelings for Robin. A few encouraging words from a good friend "She won't run away form you, I promise."  
> Robin learns that doing something that scares you, can lead to the most beautiful moments.

Chapter four.

 

The glow of London reflected back against heavy snow clouds, occasionally a few stray flakes would drift down and melt into the lights mirrored on the Themes.

But those on the boat were completely oblivious to this. Christmas celebrations were in full swing. A swarm of noise hit Robin as she pushed through the crowd towards the bar, glasses chinked together as groups toasted to, anything and everything, laughter and conversation rose over the continuous beats of music.

Strike followed Robin through the tight crowd. She never failed to amaze him. This was clearly not her scene, either of theirs for that matter, but there she was smiling politely, to those who greeted her, subtly avoiding one or two she’d rather not have to be polite to, she returned the hug of a drunken policewoman who was embracing every third person she saw, Strike made sure he would be the second by side stepping another casualty, all the while never losing sight of Robin, how could he, her golden hair moving with the motions of her body. Everything that made her who she was, was effortless, her ability to quickly summarize and adapt to any situation, he thought on those words and found them to be too clinical for her now. She was more of welcomed breeze on a spring day, there to give you comfort and a feeling of life, bringing a smile to your face just by having her in your presence. And he knew he wasn’t alone in feeling this, he observed the reactions of those around her and has been told on many occasions ‘how amazing Robin is’.

His thumb rubbed softly against his index finger tucked away deep inside his jacket pocket. A small shiver ran up his spine as he recalled the sensations of her hand in his, her smooth softness contrasted against his own weathered skin but his feelings ran far deeper than sensory, the emotion he had felt etched painfully into his heart, she was his warmth, his little ray of sunshine even in the bleakest of moments, but as he drew closer to the bar closer to her again, he reminded himself, that she wasn’t his, she would, never be his, and in truth he wouldn’t want her to be. He doesn’t want to own her she’s not to be owned, she’s there to be loved and it’s about time she knew just how much, not by him playing scenario games as an excuse to hold her hand or walk arm in arm for a few steps. The next time he held her hand, she would know that it’s all him. Heart on the line.

By the time he had reached the bar, there was a pint waiting for him. Robin held her untouched wine in her hand. She raised her glass and waited for him to do the same. “Merry Christmas Cormoran” She said just loud enough to be heard. Her heart started to flutter as he took a small step towards her, there was a sudden intensity in his deep blue eyes, but just in his eyes, the rest of his features calm and soft. Slowly he rested his glass against hers and leaned forward. Robin sucked in a breath, her eyes moving to his lips, she watched in slow motion, his mouth parted slowly, “Not yet, it’s not.” He said to the side of her burning cheek. His voice was deep and thick. 

The wine in Robins glass begun to quake, ripples licked up the side threatening to spill over if she didn’t get a grip, literally. This was made easier now that he had straightened up taking his intoxicating pheromones with him. “I suggest giving it a couple of days.” His voice sounded suggestive but Robin knew from the manner in which he spoke, that it had nothing to do with the removal of chocolate behind little cardboard squares on an Advent calendar. His piercing eyes gave nothing away, as he hid them under his long, dark lashes.

There was enough chemistry between them in this moment to ignite a science experiment. He looked back up at her, making a gesture of acknowledgement with his pint glass “but, instead, a toast, for another case closed.” He brought his pint slowly to his mouth, drawing a long and much needed mouthful. He watched in amusement as Robin followed suit, before placing what little remained in her glass back on the counter. 

Strike let out a little laugh “Well, Wardle can’t say I didn’t warn him about needing a larger tab.”

“Did I hear my name?” Wardle nudged his way between them. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders. Robin and Strike shot each other a ‘He’s pissed’ look over the top of Wardle, which wasn’t hard due to his limited stature. Wardle spoke with a slight slur, well shouted actually, addressing each of them with a sway of his body and an exaggerated sideways head lift “Merry Christmas Sheet Sniffer and Dear Robin.” He snorted at his description of Strike before adding “Just kidding Mate, you’ve saved my skin more than once, ‘nd…” He let out a huff of sincerity “I really do appreciate it.” Wardle swayed back into Robin “I appreciate you boff.” A large open smile spread across his face.

At the sight of this Robin let out a scoff of laughter, if she had had drink in her mouth at the time she was sure to have choked on it. She’d only ever seen him smile in sarcasm, so this drunken Cheshire grin was hilarious. She laughed out the words “Merry Christmas Eric.” And planted a quick kiss to his short dark hair. Wardle froze momentarily before looking to Strike, the wide spread smile still on his face and Strike understood Robins out burst of laughter, the man looked ridiculous. Wardle turned the Cheshire grin to a smug smile. “She kissed me.” He said, in stunned astonishment “Your girl kissed me, I bet she’s not kissed you, you, big hairy monster.” His words hung awkwardly in the air for a bit, neither Strike or Robin risked eye contact knowing their own desires would be transparent. Wardle unhooked his arms from their shoulders and the tree of them lent on the bar. 

“Oh” Wardle started again “These are for you.” He handed them each a raffle ticket “Some decent prizes to, perks for working for the Met.” He grinned.

Wardle looked back to Robin “Why you still wiv this geezer anyhow? when you could come work wiv all of us.” He raised his hand and waved it around aimlessly indicating to his co-workers.

Strike didn’t react to this comment from Wardle, but was dying to hear Robins response. He could feel her eyes on him and tempting as it was to look at her, he chose to study the amber liquid in front of him. He didn’t was to risk her seeing disappointment in his eyes. 

Robin looked straight past Wardle and let her eyes take in all of the man she admires and adores. She paused on her answer for a moment while her past three years flashed in front of her, she recognized how much she had grown as a person, everything she’s learnt, how much she’s laughed, her confidence, these things and oh so many more are all due to the man she holds not only in her gaze but in her highest regards. And then there’s the fact that she’s fallen in love with him. 

“Because… because, I wouldn’t be me without him.” Neither Strike or Wardle remarked on Robins comment, Wardle just nodded his drunken head but Robin watched the twitch of a grin pull at the corner of Strikes mouth. It was probably better that he didn’t look at her, she knew she’d be blushing. She drained the remains of her glass and announced that she was heading for the bathroom.

Strike was nowhere to be seen when Robin returned. She spotted Wardle again, “Where’s Cormoran?” She asked as though she didn’t really care but was just curious, which wasn’t how she felt. Something had defiantly changed between them over the last two days, it was though they had both decided to give up on hiding their true feelings. She felt this in Cormorans touch when he held her hand in his, she’d seen it through his dilated pupils and she felt it in her saturated heart. Love, lust, longing, all teetering on the precipice, no longer wanting to resist the fall.

Robin found a slightly quieter nook on the Tattershall Castle where she could look out the window onto Embankment. New Scotland Yard stood proudly in the back ground, it’s signature land mark, comprising of a pole and three silver sides, white lights shining the words NEW SCOTLAND YARD turned slowly and silently.

She scanned the path back towards the boat and there standing under lamp light she found her man, well not her man, but she knew what she meant. She watched as he ground out a cigarette, expecting him to turn and re board the boat. Instead he reached for his phone, it wasn’t lit when he pulled it from his pocket, so he wasn’t receiving a call, Robin took out her own phone and placed in on the table, just in case he planned on calling her. But her phone didn’t buzz. She felt a bit intrusive watching him as he spoke. She should have been making an effort to mingle but his body language was making her so bloody curios.

She’d watched as the conversation had started out with what looked like sincere pleasantries, before it turned to frustration, his head was tilted down, he had raked his hand through his thick hair three times, each time became more aggressive, he’d scuffed his right leg against the ground in what looked to be sheer frustration, before his body gave one almighty sigh and he ended the call smiling again.

Robin didn’t know what to make to any of this, if he was in a relationship, he’d not mentioned anything, not that he always did but surely, she would have known, had she miss read their last two days, had he planned on breaking up with said mystery caller and then lost his nerve at the last minute? A thousand thoughts were flying through and confusing Robins already turbulent mind that before she had had time to register any of it he was standing right in front of her. She looked up and gasped “Cormoran?” She looked ever so briefly into his eyes, they were soft and unchanged in the way he had looked at her earlier, before her mind was all messed up. He looked out the window behind her and gave a little grin. “Were you expecting someone else?” He asked playfully. “Um, what, um, no.” For Christ sake, form a sentence, she shouted in her head. “I think I spotted signs of karaoke, shall we go?” She was desperate now to get off this boat, out into the crisp clean air, that she hoped would bring clarity to her scrambled thoughts. Before she could do this, she needed the bathroom again, ‘I’ll be back, just give me a minute.” She said brushing quickly past him.

Strike could only imagine what Robin would be thinking. She would have had a clear view of him from here as he was venting his frustrations down the phone to Ilsa, he thought about what his body language would have looked like to someone who was observing him, what Robin would have made of it. He recalled parts of their conversation ‘I’m sure she knows; how can she not know Ilsa? Fuck I’ve been pretty transparent.’ He thought back to her response. ‘Oh Corm, you can’t act the part or insinuate, that just muddies the waters, you have to be clear, you have, a part there of, Oxford education, use your words and if you’re incapable of doing that, then actions speak louder than words, for the love of god tell her that you love her, she won’t run from you, I promise.’ Those were the words he needed to hear, he’d known it for a while but he was terrified that he’d lose her. That the woman, who had saved his business and his soul would run a mile if she knew the truth.

NUMBER 74. A loud voice echoed through the speakers. Wardle rushed over to Strike and handed him an envelope, “That’s for you mate, number 74, enjoy.” 

Strike took a quick peak inside the envelope and placed it into his pocket, he still had the grin of a grand plan coming together when Robin returned to his side. “Shall we?” Robin asked again, a curious grin responding to his own. “We shall.” And with this he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the crowd and onto terra firma.

Robin, still conflicted by her thoughts, turned to head back the way they had arrived. Back towards the tube, anticipating their night to be over. Until she felt his hand firmly on her shoulder turning her towards him. “Robin, would you mind if we just walked for a bit?” He flashed her a grin that he kept in reserve especially for her, no one else was privy to it, it had been this way for the past tree years. His heart melted a little under his heavy coat as she couldn’t resist smiling back. “Of course, I don’t mind” She replied turning so her step was in time with his. 

She saw him glance across the Themes, “I could really go for an Ice cream.” He said, his eyes locked onto the Golden archers nestled under the Marriott Hotel that took up a large section between Waterloo Bridge and the London Eye.

Although the silence between them was a comfortable one as they negotiated other pedestrians and the occasional pigeon Strike decided to break it. “So…” He waited for her to look up at him and she didn’t disappoint, god, he could have stopped right here, right now and kissed her perfect lips, blushed against the cold, her eyes were expectant enough, but he wanted to wait for the perfect moment. So, he continued. “We’ve been invited to dinner.” He looked at her again, his eyebrows raised as if to ask ‘who did you think I was on the phone to’. “Ilsa asked if you’d like to join them for Christmas day, you know, since you’ll be in London now, she added me on as a second thought.” He added jokingly. 

Robin saw and accepted that he was trying to put her out of her misery, openly explaining who he’d been on the phone to, but it didn’t answer all of her questions, surely an invitation for Christmas dinner wouldn’t provoke such frustrations that she had witnessed but it was a start. She admitted to her self that she was relived by his part explanation. “Yeah, that sounds lovely.” She bumped up against his arm “We could whip their buts with their Christmas gift.” She so wanted to loop her arm through his, to be just that bit closer to him, it felt like a very natural thing for her to do but she didn’t. They turned onto Waterloo bridge.

Strike gripped the ice-cold railing as he took the few slippery steps into Maccas. Waiting in line behind three others he looked to Robin “Would you like anything?” He asked, his eyes fixed on a few damp threads of golden red hair that had stuck to her cheek. He only just heard her say the words Hot Apple Pie over the thud thud in his ears. He was so tired of resisting, he took a step towards her, keeping his eyes fixed on the threads of hair, he brushed his thumb against her cheek, tucking the stray hairs behind her ear. He soon realized that this was the easy part, resisting the urge to allow his fingers to follow the curve of her ear and bury his hand under her scarf to the back of her neck, now that was hard, painfully hard. 

He turned away from her, leaving her blissfully stunned, her own fingers pressed to the skin his fingers had just left, as if to remember the feeling for just a fraction longer. 

“NEXT!” Came a voice from behind the register.

It had been such a surreal moment, Robin thought. The first time he had openly showed an act of affection without needing to hide behind an ulterior motive, was tucking strands of hair behind her ear. A seemingly simple gesture. Apparently, that was all it took, it wasn’t so much the action or the pleasurable tingle his touch had left on her pink skin but the intention behind it. That in its self-had been all she needed to ebb closer to the edge, to succumb to the calling of her heart and plummet into the depths of his own. He had turned a page and she was ecstatic to on the same one with him.

He walked towards her, his shoes tacky against the sticky floor. There wasn’t a hint of awkwardness about him, he casually handed her her Apple Pie, his lips wrapped around a large portion of his soft serve ice cream.

They walked slowly and silently along the South Bank towards Waterloo station. Until Strike veered to his left, through a set of sloping ramps. Robin, who had been depositing her rubbish in a bin had only just realized where he was going. “What are you doing?” She asked slowly, a mix of curiosity, delight and fear, giving her voice a strange pitch.

“I won these in the raffle tonight.” He held up two tickets for The London Eye and shrugged his shoulders. “There’s no time like the present, you coming.?” He asked, his arms open and a slight crease on the edge of his mouth.

Before Robin could over think things, she was rushing up the path to join him. They were ushered onto a pod, where they were alone.

Due to it being so cold out side the heating had been turned up, causing them both to instantly remove their coats. Strike lay his over the wooden slats used for seating, and his heart skipped a beat as he watched Robin lay her on top of his, his thought turned to one not of fabric but of flesh. The pod rose slowly, Strike looked at Robin who seamed a little uncomfortable.

“Sorry.” He started saying, looking a little concerned “I should have asked, before just jumping on, are you okay with this?” He stood away form her a bit giving her some space. 

She looked into his concerned eyes “Oh yeah, I’ll be fine.” She noticed that didn’t help with his concerns. “Cormoran, this is lovely, it’ll just takes me a moment to get use to heights.” She moved a little closer to the window, hoping that he’d relax. “Any way, the Sunscreen song.” She smiled as she watched blurt out a little laugh. “The what?” He asked totally perplexed. “Don’t you remember it?” She asked pulling her phone from her handbag. “My mum always used to play it. There’s a line in there that says, ‘Do one thing every day that scares you.’ Well, I’m happy for this to be mine for today.” She said triumphantly finding the search she was looking for.

She sat on the long wooden seat and placed her phone beside her. She patted the space on the other side of her phone, inviting him to sit with her. The song was quite perfect really, they were both very relaxed as they laughed at some of the Life tips suggested through the narrated lyrics. Once the song was over she placed her phone back in her bag, stood up and walked bravely right to the edge of the window. “Wow, it’s just so beautiful.”

Robin saw Strike in the reflection moving towards her, her breath started to falter. Her entire body tingled as she felt his hand on her shoulder, turning her towards him, her legs felt weak but she must hold strong, please body, don’t fail me now she thought, I’ve been wanting this moment for so long. She willed her knees not to shake and her hands not to tremble. She found strength in his eyes, she was ready.

“So beautiful.” He hummed looking into her eyes. He tried steadying the rapid beating of his heart, but it was for naught, he focused on his breathing instead. “One thing everyday that scares you?” He asked but didn't wait for her to respond. "Well I guess it's my turn." He traced his question down the soft, pink skin of Robins cheek with the back of his fingers, barely making contact, a feather touch. He felt his own lips parting as he drew his thumb across her perfect lips, a fraction of pressure paused on her bottom lip and he melted inside as he watched her eyes close and mouth open, her moist tongue resting on her teeth begging to be tasted.

It would have been so easy have just leaned in to kiss her, but he wanted to do this right. His thumb paused on her mouth, he touched his other hand to the side of her face, encouraging her to open her eyes. “Robin?” Her lashes parted revealing her intense blue eyes “May I?” He let his gaze fall down her flawless face, to her waiting lips, before looking back into her eyes and holding them there. He allowed his body to push against hers, the thundering of their hearts beating against each other’s breast and ever so gently he replaced his thumb with his lips, Slowly, he brushed his bottom lip along hers, before sealing his mouth around hers. He felt her want, as she reached inside of his jacket, scrunching the fabric of his shirt in her fingers, pulling him in closer, she opened her mouth to cover his, her softness pressing firm against his bristles. A small repressed moan escaped Strikes mouth as he felt the tip of her tongue search for his. His eyes closed as he wrapped his arms around her, he tugged her scarf free from her neck letting it fall to the floor. His hands pressed against her back as he slid one up to wrap her silky hair around his hand, he held her firm as he slid his tongue along hers, tasting the beautiful combination of apple pie and ice cream. Her own moan echoed his now louder one as they kissed harder, deeper into the blissful realms of love.

It was only when Strike tasted something salty against the sweetness of her mouth that he slowed their kiss, it was the unmistakable taste of tears. He tried pulling back from her. But she stepped forward into him reaching to grab a handful of his thick hair, pulling her face back to his. “Don’t stop” She pleaded as she swirled her tongue over his lips. Their eyes locked again “Fuck” Strike groaned as once again he delved uncontrollably into the depths of her mouth, he watched as her eyes closed, another tear squeezed from the corner of her eye. 

This time his concern was too great. He held tight to her hair still wrapped around his hand and pulled his mouth from hers, she resisted, but this time he didn’t sway. Instead he kissed the tear that was rolling down her cheek, he kissed away the line of moisture it left on her flushed skin until his kiss rested on the corner of her eye. “Robin, what’s wrong.” His voice was the softest she ever heard it. She looked up at him, creases of worry gathered around his eyes and over his heavy brow as his deep blue eyes penetrated deep into her.

She released the handful of hair from her grip, moving her hand to his face, attempting to smooth the lines with her fingers. “Nothing’s wrong.” She assured him. He raised his eyebrows a little to indicate skepticism but she just smiled back at him. “Moments of happiness.” She said “An excess of joy over whelmed me and spilt over” Her hands now pressed to his chest. She took in a deep sigh “I think we’ve turned a new page, don’t you?” she asked.

Strike pulled her into him, her arms wrapped firmly around him. He kissed the top of her head. “A new page, a new chapter, fuck it, let’s just write a whole new fucking book.” A broad smile spread across his face as he felt Robin laugh softly into his chest.

He turned her around to she could see the view as the Eye had reached its highest point. He reached his arms around her and she leaned back into him. He dipped his head, bringing his mouth to her bare shoulders, sucking lightly on her skin with each kiss. “So beautiful.” He repeated as he followed the line across the top of her shoulder and along the curve of her neck. He felt her body quiver under his touch, he moaned deeply against her skin as she turned back into him reconnecting their lips. They held this embrace until they neared the end. 

Thirty minutes ago, they were two repressed hearts, straining against the pull of inevitability, now they walked freely, Robins arm around his waist, molding the side of her body to his while he fulfilled his earlier desire to tuck his hand under her scarf and caress the back of her neck as they made their way to Waterloo station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankyou to everyone who's read this fic.  
> This was going to be the last chapter but there's so much more potential to keep it going just to bring them up to Christmas day, which I can assure you, will be special.
> 
> The Sunscreen song they listened to was by Baz Luhrmann and a bloody good listen, if you've not heard it.
> 
> Again I'm still very new to this world of Fanfic, so thankyou for all your support.


	5. Sweet dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short little lead into part two.
> 
> It's late, neither of them can sleep...'Are you awake?'

Part Two.

Strike turned in his bed for the hundredth time. The sheet under him had protested at every turn, it was now just a bunched up irritating mess, his pillows weren’t too happy with him either. The slips all twisted and damp from sweat. 

Strike knew he’d never be able to sleep like this, pulling his hand hard, down over his face, he sighed, sat up and turned to sit on the edge of his bed. He looked back at the crumpled linen with a look of disappointment, as if they were solely to blame for his insomnia. 

Cautiously through the dark he made his way to the kitchen bench where he poured himself two fingers of whisky, he downed it in one and poured another, desperate for something to slow his racing thoughts. He went back to sit on the edge of his bed. He picked up his phone, it was 12:43am and scrolled to Robins contact and started to text. SEND.

Five miles away, Robins already neat apartment was sparkling. She had spent the last few hours scrubbing and dusting, trying to exhaust herself so she could sleep. She’d thought about going to bed but knew that would only intensify the thoughts that she needed to tame if she had any hope of sleeping. 

So, for now she sat in silence staring out the window, looking at the glowing lights, going over those perfect moments of just a few hours ago and allowing her mind to drift towards the next time they would see each other. Of course, the type of greeting would greatly depend on where, neither of them were due back at the office for five days, and they hadn’t made plans to see each other again; she picked up her phone, it was 12:43am, I wonder if he’s still awake, she thought. Her Phone buzzed in her hand, showing a text from Cormoran, a smile spread across her face reaching all the way to her heart.

Strike: ‘Are you Awake?’

Robin. ‘Yeah, can’t sleep.’

Strike: ‘Me too. Everything okay?’

Robin: ‘Besides not dragging you off the tube to come home with me, I suppose I’m fine. Why can’t you sleep?’

Strike: ‘I’ve been thinking…’

Robin: ‘Mmm, about what?’

Strike: ‘Can I call?’

Robin didn’t send a reply, she just called. He answered on the first ring.

Strike: ‘Hi’

Robin: ‘Hi’

They both heard happiness on the other end, each imagining the coy grin their voice had stimulated.

Strike: ‘Why can’t you sleep?’

Robin: ‘Because I’m here and you’re there. Although I suppose if….’

Strike: ‘…if, you were here or I was there…’

Robin: ‘…we may not be sleeping anyway’

They both gave a small laugh of acknowledgement before Robin continued.

‘…for the reasons my thoughts are keeping me from sleeping anyhow.’

Strike: ‘So, it appears sleep will allude us both tonight. Did you really want to drag me off the train?’

Robin: ‘Yes. Anyway, what have you been thinking.?’

Strike: ‘Oxford, you, you and me, me with you. Robin, I’d really like to spend some time in Oxford, with you, you could help me forget about the past and help me make some happy memories, it’s a City that deserves to be remembered fondly. 

Strike could hear Robins finger tapping away at her laptop keys. He was curious what she was up to but continued. ‘Even if was just for a day…or’ he took in a deep breath ‘maybe a night even, at some stage, when we can both find the time…if you’d like to.’

Robin: ‘Mercure Oxford Eastgate Hotel’

Strike ‘Where? What?’

Robin had logged onto a booking site the moment Strike had said Oxford. She was now looking at a page that showed rooms furnished in deep, rich browns and olive greens. Large black and white prints hung under soft lamp light on the soft cream walls. Heavy drapes, rich in colour framed the picturesque windows with a view onto High Street, Chesterfield chairs positioned carefully to capture the best views.

Robin: ‘I have four words for you’ She said slightly distracted, ecstatic at the dates available, with just the one room left she clicked on the Book Now button. ‘Excellent Breakfast and Elevator.’

Strike: ‘Sounds great’

Robin: ‘I know that’s why I’ve just booked it but you’ll have to apologize to Nick and Ilsa.’

Strike: ‘What’

Robin: ‘Cormoran, we have five days off work, who knows when we’ll have another opportunity like this. I’ve sent you two attachments. I very much look forward to seeing you tomorrow.’ Her voice heavy with seduction and anxious anticipation. “Oh, and Cormoran, try to get some sleep, night xx.’

Strike: “Wait, Robin…”

Robin: Night Cormoran.” 

His phone buzzed with an email tone, the attachments she had sent.

Strike: ‘Night Robin.’ 

She had ended the call. He sat there happily stunned opened the email. Sure enough there were two attachments and a small note. ‘I know this was impulsive and presumptuous of me, so please honestly let me know if you’re not okay with these dates, it’s a free cancellation if I cancel by 9am. I’d like this to be my Christmas gift to you. If you’re okay to go, we can meet at Victoria Station at 1:30pm, train leaves at 2pm. Xx

Strike opened the attachment, his eyes immediately drawn to the King size bed, he stared at it for a full minute before opening the other, it was a train ticket to Oxford.

He fell back against his crumpled bedding, excitement and nervousness and many other emotions swirling and colliding inside of him. He thought back to words Robin had spoken earlier ‘An excess of joy’ and he whole hardheartedly agreed. Letting it all sink in, he sent a text.

Strike: ‘Tomorrow at 1:30pm, see you then, can’t wait, honestly. But it’s too much for a gift, I’ll look after all costs, no arguments. Xxx’

Robin: ‘Pack for two nights, there was a package deal, I’ve already paid, sorry. Sweet dreams Xxxx’

‘Three little words are on the tip of my tongue Robin, waiting to be shared with yours, but for now, sweet dreams for you too Xxxxxx.’ 

And with that, he stood up to remake his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter seems a little sharp. I struggle trying to keep things short, as you would have noticed from previous chapters but I really did want this to be a quick lead in to part two where I can then indulge in juicy details.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it anyway.


	6. Yes means yes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a restless night for them both and sexual tension building, Strike takes it upon himself to set some boundaries, while Robin has other ideas.

Part Two: Yes, means Yes.

Strike barely recognized himself as he stood in Victoria train station, looking at the flood of people arriving and some departing. To those who knew him, he wouldn’t have appeared that much different. His size was still imposing, his shoulders broad, his dark hair and boxer features, focused and intimidating, but the man he saw in the reflection of the Perspex from the adjacent ticket inquiry window was a different man, yes his appearance had changed slightly due to an unavoidable trip to the barber, escorted by Ilsa herself but the man he saw in the reflection was a man full of hope, optimism and unmistakable desire, no, more than that, he was a man in love and proud of it.

He had arrived early to allow enough time for an extra strong coffee, since he hadn’t had much sleep, a cigarette to help calm his nerves and a mint to disguise the fact that he was indeed nervous. He lent casually against a pillar, covering all entry points including the one behind him through the reflection. And suddenly, there she was, right on time. He noted that the woman who had ultimately been the cause of him having to remake his bed on more than one occasion during the night, also looked different to the last time he’d seen her. Her stride was a little more purposeful, an elegant confidence accompanied her silent steps. He looked down at his feet, pretending not to see her, gathering his thoughts and steadying his heart. She breezed past him leaving her sweet sent in her wake.

‘Robin’ Her name near caught in his throat.

Robin had entered the station with a spring in her step and it wasn’t just due to her new boots. Although she was pleased with her recent purchase, a slight platform boot with rubber soles, perfect for cobbled streets and surveillance work, they also had the added advantage of height. The spring was mainly due to a newly found confidence. 

During her hours of sleeplessness, Robin had come to the conclusion that she was no longer scared of the feelings she felt towards her partner, her friend, the man she had fallen in love with. After last night, she could not and would not allow the full extent of her feeling towards him to be repressed any longer. Her spontaneous act of booking a single room for them was a huge step in taking control and making her intentions clear. She knew when people looked at her they saw, shy Robin, responsible Robin, goodie two shoes Robin, Cormoran was the only one who had ever really witnessed, strong, resilient, determined and protective Robin. There was also a side to her that he would have learnt about last night, during the most exquisite of kisses and that was a yearning, an acceptance, a readiness to be the woman she had dreamed of being with him. She had never been one for public shows of affection, she’d remembered being appalled at photos he had shown her on their first case when Tony Laundry had been photographed by Cormoran grabbing onto Tansy Bestigui’s arse, yet Robin was quite sure that she was about to share a very public show of affection, after hours of lying awake, remembering the way his lips moved with hers, his tongue deep in her mouth and hers in his, where her fantasies had led her during her blissful hours of semi consciousness, she was confident that she not only could but wanted to greet him with a kiss, full and open, a brand new adventurous Robin.

Through the hum of people around her Robin heard her name. She turned to look behind her, she could have been struck down by a feather. Her body felt light and alive as she walked towards him, her overnight bag trailing behind her. He was without coat or jacket but in a black firm fitting knit jumper, with the hint of pale blue shirt underneath, the top two buttons open teasing her with three different skin textures; she remembered the touch his soft trimmed beard and how it had felt under her hands, her mouth and against the bare skin of her neck and shoulders but there was also a new patch of freshly shaven, smooth skin that lead down to an inviting triangle of chest hair. He was like her own moon, pulling her in with more gravitational force than she ever felt was possible. 

She walked straight up to him, allowing him to see the lust and hunger she felt for him as she approached. The additional two inches from her boots were an added bonus, lessening the gap in which she’d need to close before she could kiss him. She expected her heart to race nervously at this point, or to have to summon the courage to go through with her plan to kiss him in public, but she felt neither of those things, yes, her heart was beating hard but it was from excitement and anticipation not nerves and she hadn’t had to summon courage but was more concerned about restraint, how was she going to stop. She could feel the suggestive smile on her lips as she inched closer to his mouth, her hands just as eager to be reconnected with him, to feel the warmth of his face beneath her palm. She didn’t feel the need to greet him with words, her intentions were crystal clear, she reached behind his head, curling her fingers through his shorter but still grabbable hair, leaning in for the most anticipated kiss of her life, only to be met with his cheek. Cormoran had deliberately avoided her kiss. Robin pulled back instantly, fear and embarrassment had taken over from her previous blissful thoughts.

Strike knew from the moment Robin had turned towards him that he was fucked either way.  
All he could do now was to lessen the severity of the consequences. He braced himself, waiting for the last possible moment to avoid his mouth coming in contact with hers. He felt like a total arsehole turning his head from her kiss but it was for the best and he knew he’d be able to make it up to her in a more suitable environment. Still the hurt in her eyes was painful for him, he knew he’d need to explain his actions quickly to save her pride.

He caught her head in his hand as she was pulling back from him. He rested his face against hers before nuzzling his mouth to her ear.

‘Robin, I dare not kiss your mouth.’ He spoke low and calm but that didn’t stop her raising her trembling fingers touch her rejected lips. He took hold of her trembling hand and held it firm against his face, her touch was heavenly. He sighed deeply causing her golden red hair to part around her ear leaving tempting bare skin in its wake, he stepped fully into her, risking the effects that he was hoping to avoid by not kissing her. He tilted his head back, raised his eyebrows and gave her a well-established look of, you’ve come to the wrong conclusion, before leaning into her ear again. This time he felt her fingers grip behind the back of his neck.

‘If we were to kiss, not only would I end up embarrassing you but I’d likely get arrested for public indecency.’ He allowed a little humour pay on his last few words, hoping that she’d understand the sacrifice he was making for them both. Never one for letting himself off gently, he pressed his lips against the smooth line of her neck, he didn’t say the next few words to tease her or torment himself but because they were true, ‘fuck, I’ve missed you.’ He released her hand using both his arms to wrap around her and lift her off her feet, holding her tight against his chest. He watched as warmth reached her eyes, flooding out any doubt that was there.

She felt him let her down gently in more ways than one. ‘Come on then, we’d better jump on before all the good seats are gone.’ Strike turned his head to look at her as they walked towards platform 1. ‘There’s no such thing.’ 

Robin led them to seats at the front of the carriage, looking for any addition leg room, she took the seat by the window leaving him the isle seat so he could stretch out his leg a bit. They both tucked their overnight bags under their seats. Robin stayed standing to remove her heavy overcoat, she was undoing the waist belt when she felt he was watching her, she shifted her eyes to him, slowing down each movement. One by one the press studs popped, his gaze drifted up from her navel, slowly past her chest, she rolled her shoulders back allowing her coat to fall down her back catching it at her elbows, she waited for his eyes to reach hers, wanting him to see the full extent of her amusement. She gave a soft little laugh before folding her coat and placing it to the side of her seat. 

Robin reached into her large hand bag and produced two packs of sandwiches, ‘would you like something now, or do you want to wait for a bit?’ she offered him a pack while she placed her own back in her bag then sat close beside him tucking one leg under so she was positioned sideways facing him. She looked at him waiting for his decision. Strikes eyes dropped down to her lower neck and collarbone, as they so often did, he turned his body, the best he could towards hers, his hand covered hers and the pack of sandwiches and leaned into her, his mouth now hovering at the side of her neck, he breathed his words heavy against her skin ‘I’m hungry now.’ His lips parted over her sweet soft skin, his tongue had only just made contact when he heard Robin moan, which she quickly covered up by an awkward cough. They both pulled back and laughed as Strike slipped the sandwiches from her hand.

The next half hour slipped past quickly. They read through the news paper Robin had picked up when she’d grabbed the sandwiches and shared views on different topics. At the second to last page Robin folded the paper in half and fished out a pen. She filled in six quick answers in the crossword before tapping her pen against her bottom lip ‘stuck?’ Strike asked leaning in a bit to read the clue. The clue was: 1 of 5. ‘One of five what?’ Robin asked as though it was a stupid clue, her hand gesturing to the paper. 

‘Robin.’ Strike had picked up her left hand in both of his, he held it up studying it, like he had the previous night when they were having dinner but this time he pressed it to the side of his face, his nose brushed over the sensitive skin of her wrist inhaling deeply. He spoke three words, pressing his open lips to the back of her hand between each one. ‘Sight, smell, taste’ on this word he let his kiss linger a little longer. He watched her eyes flutter close and her lips part, just as they had before their first kiss, his mind raced forward through the next hour, to when they would be alone together, some of the thoughts that had kept him awake flashed through his mind. He placed her hand down on her leg. “I’m a bit stuck on what I can do for sound.’ He said trying to steady his heavy breathing. 

‘Mmm?’ Robin asked with only sound not words. She tried repeating the words she had vaguely heard as she was savouring the sensations that were engulfing her, she opened her eyes, there was a deep intensity to the way he was looking at her, she saw the heavy rise and fall of his chest, her own voice unsteady ‘Sight, taste’ she looked at his mouth, his lips were pressed shut, a pulse ticking on the edge of his jaw. She remembered the third word, ‘smell?’ Robin waited for an answer from him but he seemed to be struggling to respond, he broke his gaze away form hers and looked down at the paper ‘the word your looking for is, Touch.’ He said releasing a sigh as though he was relieved to be free of the burden of a word. She nodded slowly and placed the paper back into her handbag without filling in the word. She sat up stretching her arms out and rotated her neck. In doing this Robin was able to see that the seat directly behind them was empty, the one behind that the guy was sleeping as was the woman across the aisle to the left of them. 

Robin had given up on resisting her urges, she was about to not only cross the line but destroy the boundaries on what was considered common public decency. She reached for her coat and brought it up over her lap she also let it cover her hand that was now placed on top of his on his upper thigh. She slid a little closer to him resting her head on his shoulder, his warmth comforting against her cheek. Robin smiled a smile of satisfaction as she felt his head rest against hers. Under the cover of her coat she slid her fingers along each of his, spending more time on his middle finger, placing two of hers either side of his running them from tip to knuckle and back to tip with a little twist, she felt him raise his finger against the motion. Slowly she tilted her head to kiss his throat, her tongue swirling on his smooth skin, she felt the strong pulse of his artery against her lips. She slipped her hand from his pulling her fingernails up his inner thigh, teasing herself by not letting her hand brush over him thinking of another throbbing pulse and how she craved it. 

Initially Strike was able to keep his body still but he was losing that battle quickly, he was concerned about restraint how easily he would become caught up in the moment. Now he was powerless to resist her want, his want, their want for each other. He reached for her waist as he felt her thumb graze past the edge of his groin, he stifled a moan into her collarbone, letting his other hand travel up her thigh, his thumb within the same close proximity, he gripped a bit tighter, no further, he was telling himself as he felt her gasp against his throat. He buried his face deep into her hair ‘fuck’ his desperation clinging to every letter, her voice clear and seductive in his ear ‘I can’t wait.’ The ability to hold back an erection, failing, the urge to pull her onto his lap was ever increasing, fuck and they hadn’t even kissed mouth on mouth yet. The thought of the king size bed waiting for them. He didn’t want Robin to feel she was under any pressure, not that it seemed to be an issue right now but he felt it necessary to let her know that teasing and longing didn’t need to turn to sex. He inched his hand back down her thigh. ‘Robin’ he spoke softly, which back fired as she spoke his name against his ear ‘Cormoran.’ His erection full now and pressing against the buttons of his boxers, thankful that her coat was still over his lap. He moved his face back from hers, smiling openly at the guilty grin of satisfaction she wore triumphantly. ‘Robin, it’s important to me that you know that no matter how we’re feeling now, I will always respect your decision to say no.’ The train was slowing to their destination. Strike continued ‘it doesn’t matter how caught up in a moment we are, I will always hear you, I will always listen and I will stop.’ 

Robin looked at him, she knew he meant what he said, that they weren’t just words, she trusted him implicitly. She also knew that she was ready for the most mind- blowing sex of her life and that she couldn’t wait for him to experience that with her, after all he was the sole reason she felt this way. She pressed her hand to his burning cheek ‘Thankyou and I trust you but can I also say something equally important.’ She watched his mouth twist slightly puzzled. She stood up pulling her case out from under her chair ‘Yes means yes.’ 

As they made their way to the adjoining bus Robin gave Strike a sheepish look, ‘sorry about my actions on the train, I don’t know what came over me.’

Strike never one to miss a perfect come back opportunity, simply replied ‘wasn’t me’ he threw a cheeky sideways glance at her ‘close though.’ He reached his arm around her shoulder squeezing her to his side.

Robin looked up at him ‘don’t you mean, not yet.’ She let out a spontaneous laugh as she watched his jaw fall open in astonishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, finally they're in Oxford.   
> Now the next chapter can go either way. I have 3 very explicit sex scenes in mind that I can share, if you like, or if you've read enough Robin and Cormoran smut that you'd prefer me to skip it and go on to the next part of the story, then I'm happy to do that too.


	7. Do Not Disturb.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is basically all sex.   
> Not much more to say really.

Part two: Do Not Disturb.

For Oxford the bus trip for Strike and Robin was a wasted one. They were so intensely pre-occupied with up and come events that a bedroom brought that the beauty of the city, for that brief moment of time was lost on them. But alas, the next time it would shine for them, for they would be lovers and this City would hold a brand -new beginning for them both.

Strike had followed Robin into the lobby with his very own perception of tunnel vision. He saw what was in front of him and that was about it, which was extremely unusual for a man with his vast experience of observation skills. At the moment and well for the past two hours he had been pretty much oblivious to anything around him, apart from Robin, right now she was his beacon, the gentle sway of her golden hair towing him in her wake. He felt the transition from hard wood floors to the soft cushioning of the patterned burgundy and cream carpet. In a few very short minutes their mouths would meet again. Would she search for the words he so desperately wants to share with her? Would their earlier teasing continue, would she say yes to him? God it had been so long since he had wanted more than just sex, Robin had evoked such a want for passion, a craving for slow, sensual, exploration of sensory lust. 

So lost was he in his own thoughts that he had totally missed the check in procedure. He vaguely remembers stepping into the lift with the porter who insisted they be shown to their room. Robin had managed to catch his eye on a couple of occasions, possibly while making reference to him in the conversations she’d been having with members of staff, he just grinned slightly and responded with an appropriate nod, pretending he was listening. 

Robin of course knew better, she knew from the moment they had crossed the road to the hotel that she would be on her own for the next little while, she didn’t mind, she could tell by the dazed grin on Cormorans face that he was in another world, but this is when she shone her brightest. She knew he was relying on her to take the lead, to charm the staff and ultimately lead them to their first private moment. She wasn’t exactly sure why he seemed so lost in his own thoughts, maybe it was just being back in Oxford, maybe, like herself, it was the inevitability on what waited on the other side of the beveled wooden door.

Robin desperately wanted to lead for their first dance and possibly their second, the bed could wait, she knew what she wanted, the very first moment she laid eyes on the window on the display page. But right now she had to focus on getting them to that point, holding gracious conversation with the porter who had entered their room with them. He gestured to a shiny, stainless steal bucket filled with ice and a bottle of champagne. ‘This, I believe is a gift for you both from Nick and Ilsa, do enjoy, and please let us know if there’s anything we can do to enhance your stay.’ And with those final parting words he departed, the door shut and they were alone.

Strike turned as the door clicked shut, for the first time since stepping of the bus, he was in the here and now. He watched as Robin performed her familiar routine of shrugging out of her coat and hanging it with her scarf on the coat stand, she ran her fingers through her hair and appraised their temporary surroundings. He admired her grace as she wandered off towards the window. He too removed his coat to hang, he looked at it slightly puzzled barely remembering when he had removed it from his holdall to put it on. As discreetly as he could he placed the Do Not Disturb sign on the outside of the door. 

Strike marveled at beauty of Robin as he was closing the space between them, the deep rich colours of the room complimenting her warmth. She was leaning against the wall, looking out the window through the sheer fabric hiding her away from the outside world. He was first to break the silence, as he stepped towards her, her head turned to him, he had to fight to say the words that a fraction ago seemed easy, that was before he was faced with her intense blue eyes. ‘Thanks for sorting out check in, I was a bit…’ Robin found the word for him, she raised one eyebrow ‘…Distracted?’ she asked, a grin now spreading to her previously intense features. Strike gave a small inward laugh, he reached to tuck her hair behind her ear, moving closer to her, ‘you noticed?’ He watched as Robins eyes moved to his mouth. She only just managed to respond with ‘yeah’ before he kissed her. He wanted to start slow and soft, to discover the taste of her without apple pie and soft serve hindering her purity. Her body left the wall and pushed against his, he stepped into her wanting the force of the wall behind her so he could press harder against her. She encouraged this more so, grabbing hold of his belt loops, grinding his hips and growing erection into her. His hands responded in kind, grabbing under her backside, with ease lifting her up and letting her slide down along his length. Her hands grasped the back of his head pressing his mouth hard to hers as she fucked his tongue with her mouth. Strike was under no disillusion of who was in control here and it wasn’t him.

Robin had left any inhibitions she may have had, on the other side of the door which stated Do Not Disturb. Her new -found confidence was reaching new heights as she found herself grinding hard against his impressive erection and she wasn’t about to stop here. She reached down to undo the zip of her boot, pulling it off her foot and letting it fall to the floor with a thud, she kicked it aside while trying not to lose focus on her mouth deeply engaged with his. She moaned heavily into his mouth and he heavily into hers as she rubbed her palm up and down, up and down against him, before moving to the fastenings of his pants and letting them fall to the floor. Her other hand moved to her own jean button and fly, squirming the denim and soaked cotton underwear over her hips leaving it attached to the leg with boot still on. 

She felt his hand move towards her inner thigh, she grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together, reaching them up over her head. With her foot, she dragged the chesterfield chair a little closer so she could rest he foot on the arm. She brushed her face along the softness of her beard toward his ear ‘I’m ready for you.’ With the additional height from her remaining boot and the leverage she was getting from the chair, Robin pushed herself to tippy toes to allow him to position himself under her. ‘Are you sure?’ He studied the certainty in her face, she kissed the word ‘yes’ against his mouth as she lowered herself over him, her own silky -smooth lubricant gliding them together. She kept his hands firm in her grip above their heads, pushing to her toes once more before lowering down further, inch by inch ‘til she had reached his base, she tightened her walls around him setting a steady rhythm. His name clear through her heavy breathing as he slid in and out of her driving her hard against the wall. Finally, she released their hands, leaving them to explore one another. She grabbed onto his arse, pulling him deeper inside of her. 

Strikes hand traveled the length of her leg, following the curve of her knee, up the thigh towards her heat, this time she didn’t stop him. He found the bud of her clit protruding above her wetness, he had never anticipated the effect this would have on them both, his thumb had just grazed lightly over the top when her felt the full extent of her climax. He struggled to hold her waist as her back arched violently. The glorious sound of her panting his name and the exquisite feeling of her warmth oozing over him brought him to release his own primal cry exploding deep inside of her. They collapsed into each other’s arms, their bodies convulsing uncontrollably both using the wall for support. He could feel himself pulse inside of her as she kissed the beads of sweat from his upper lip, her tongue seeking his. Reluctant to leave her just yet he steadied his body into hers and slowly thrust deep inside her, her tongue sliding back and forth against his directing the depth and pace of his last remaining efforts. He pushed some damp threads of hair back off her face before embracing her in his arms. Together they looked down at their bodies and laughed a little, both still half -dressed from the waist up and a tangle of clothing wrapped around their ankles. She looked up at him ‘well that’s sexual tension for ya.’ 

Robin didn’t bother trying to re dress, she just removed her other boot and clothing along with it, depositing her underwear in the washing machine on her way through to the bathroom. 

Strike had pulled up his boxers and pants but didn’t bother fastening them before sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled his jumper over his head, he really didn’t need that on right now, regardless of how chilly it was outside. Blissfully content, he rested back on his elbows, his eyes threatened to close, that was before they were bright and wide and staring at perfection. Robin was standing naked in front of him, he reached out to touch her but she took a step back giving her head a small shake. My god! The amount of effort it was taking for him to not stand up and pull her onto the bed was excruciating and for a second, he couldn’t fight it, he made a move to get up but she took another step back. ‘Cormoran can you lie down please?’ she asked raising her eyebrows and crossing her arms across her bare chest. Strike groaned impatiently as he followed her instructions and lay back on the bed. He lifted his head to watch her walk forward but Robin saw his intention clearly written on his face and she shook her head once more. Strike dropped his head back against the mattress in defeat, his fists clenching the smooth covers. 

He felt her remove his shoe, and then his pants, her golden red hair skimming against his skin as she lifted the elastic over his still damp cock, watching it twitch when she touched him, she slid them down his thighs and fully off. ‘Fuck’ he groaned as he reached for her again and again she stepped back but this time she turned and walked back towards the bathroom, turning to him in the door frame, ‘come on.’ Strike sat up and removed his shirt, he looked down, glad to see that he could use both legs to follow her, although he still did have some concerns and despite how they had just been together, she was about to see him fully naked, chest hair, belly hair, face it, he thought to himself I’m not one for trimming and grooming. And this wasn’t his only issue he was not really good in bathrooms. Baths became a bit awkward, floors were slippery and showers were generally small, which he himself was not. But his most stupid mistake was to forget that he was with Robin, thoughtful, understanding, respectful Robin. 

He looked around the large open space, the light level was low but functional, candle light flickered against the dark tiled walls and reflected off the large mirror. The shower space was large and open. The glass screen only covered half but enough to stop the dangerous spread of water, there was a wide solid ledge just out of waters reach to place towels and carefully disguised hand rails for support. Not only that but she had place a plastic chair in the middle of the shower space. ‘Robin this is…’ he looked around again then let his eyes fall on her, he studied her curves, the colour of her skin dancing in the candle light, ‘… perfect.’ She stepped up to him and kissed him softly, her fingers lightly scratching through the line of hair from his chest to his groin and back up again to his beard. Her body shivered at his touch, he traced every line and curve he could reach, delicately and controlled, the ache between her thighs yearned once again. ‘I’ll let you get comfortable.’ She said, hinting to the chair, turning her back to retrieve soap options from the shelves. She waited for the distinctive sound, the pop as his leg is released from the suction before turning around. 

Robin joined him in the shower space. She kept her movements slow and relaxed as placed his leg on the ledge to keep it dry. She directed the shower head away from them until the temperature was just right and positioning it back to face them. She stood under the flow of the water, her head tilted back, conscious that he was watching her she slid her hands up her body lightly squeezing her breasts. Robin brought her head forward to look at him, water droplets flicking off her eyelashes as she blinked. It took two small steps to straddle him, she stood above him and looked down into the depths of his eyes ‘you, here, like this…’ she gestured around her, as she lowered herself onto him ‘… and the window, that’s what kept me awake last night.’ She leaned down to kiss him her body rocking against his. She felt the strength in his arm wrapped around her waist, sliding and grinding as he pulled her down onto him before holding her still to take her nipple in his mouth licking and sucking, pulling it out gently with his teeth, his hand cupping her slippery breast. Robin grabbed two handfuls of his hair slowly and carefully breaking his mouth away from her so she could resume her rhythm, there was a stubbornness about her that was pushing him to the brink, he loved seeing her like this, he held firm to her hips pushing her harder and faster, she leaned back, his strong arms there to hold her. Her ankles wrapped around the legs of the chair as she rode out yet another orgasm. God, she didn’t know what was turning her on more, the fact that they had actually made it to this point after spending years trying to repress and deny her feelings for him, hell, for a long time it’s been him and only him who she fantasized about when masturbating, he did it for her every time. And now it was real, the feeling of his body with hers, strong yet tender and as sexy as fuck. She wanted to be ravished by him.

Strike waited for a minute before moving her against him but she wouldn’t budge, she was still wrapped around the chair and she held firm. She gave him a naughty smile before she slid off him, leaving him unfinished. He watched as she washed herself down and rinsed off. Strike had no words, in fact he had hardly spoken at all since their arrival, he was so overwhelmed by what was happening. He watched her leave the bathroom fully naked and dripping wet, two towels in hand. He was however in arms reach of everything he needed.

Robin returned to the bathroom a couple of minutes after she heard the water turn off. In one hand she held two glasses of champagne and some strawberries in the other. She was wearing his blue shirt open, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She lifted herself up to sit on the bench, her legs slightly parted, enough that he could see that she was still glistening wet, and not from water. Her wet hair had left damp patches down the front of this shirt, her erect nipples pushing against the fabric. Strike had dried off enough to be able to reattach his leg. He watched as she dunked a strawberry into champagne before biting into it. ‘So,’ she asked calmly, making eye contact for the first time since she left his lap ‘what kept you awake last night?’ 

Strike held her gaze as he walked towards her, he looked over her entire body then back in to her eyes, wrapping his arm around her he lifted her off the bench and carried her out, lying her down gently down on the towels she had laid on the bed. He slid his cool damp body against hers and lent his forehead onto hers. ‘Are you sure you’re ready?’ He lifted her leg to bend at the knee, he teased the tip of his cock against her entrance before sliding himself deep into her. Robin responded with her hips pressing into him ‘yes’ she moaned pleadingly. Strike gave one firm deep thrust and then another ‘Are you sure you want me to play out my fantasy of us?’ Now it was her turn to grip the sheets ‘yes, fuck Cormoran, yes.’ ‘Robin.’ He stopped all movement and waited for her eyes to open and look up at him, he dipped his head to kiss her strawberry lips, leading with his tongue ‘til the tip touched hers ‘I love you.’

They wrapped around each other in a passionate embrace their mouths hot and heavy against cool skin. Finally, Strike was able to regain control. He slipped out of her, down her body and off the end of the bed. He returned from the bathroom with the Champagne flutes and strawberries, he handed her her drink and placed the small bowl of strawberries on the bed side table. He brought the Champagne bucked to the side of the bed and made a quick stop at the bar fridge before returning to sit on the end of the bed. The bed was quite high which was an advantage for him. He had his back to her while he was rolling back the sleeve of his leg. He twisted his upper body to look at her, she had positioned herself a bit further up the bed giving him extra room. He rested his leg against the side of the bed and turned towards her. ‘Use extra pillows if you need to.’ Robin looked at him slightly puzzled. ‘To prop yourself up,’ he ran his eyes over the full length of her body, he ran his hand up her smooth silky thigh, up over her pouting mound, spreading her lips with the edge of his thumb. His eyes raging with hunger, his tongue wetting his lips ‘if you want to watch.’ For the first time today, he saw her cheeks flush red, she drew a quick intake of air as he lowered himself onto her, maintaining eye contact before he was lost in her heaven. 

Fuck she was glorious, her silken wetness coating his mouth, he groaned uncontrollably, she tasted exquisite, he continued to moan and groan as he French kissed her heat, pushing his tongue deep into her opening sucking greedily on her juices. He rubbed the tip of his thumb over and around her hard clit. Her body squirmed against his face which only encouraged him, to hold her firmer, push his tongue deeper, to suck on her harder. 

Strike lifted his eyes to her muffled moans. His satisfaction evident by the wide grin on his face. Robin was holding a pillow against her face, he reached to pull it free but there was a rather large chunk clenched between her teeth. He pulled himself up her body and entered her in one smooth movement. He retracted half his length and thrusted into her again his body hovering above her, sweat from his brow dripping onto her body. She removed the pillow tossing it to the side exasperated. She wrapped her legs around his body pulling him in deeper trying to create a rhythm, trying to regain control. He stopped all movement and looked deep into her begging eyes. She fought to form a sentence, pleading to him ‘Cormoran, I need…I want to…I’m going to cum.’

As he had already been driven to brink of orgasm and left hanging when she had left him in the shower, so, he felt only the tiniest bit of guilt as he slid from her once again. He even had a chuckle as she reached for him, grabbing onto his arms, dragging her nails along his back desperate for him to drive her to climax but he slipped out of reach.

He reached into the bucket at the side of the bed removing an ice cube. He couldn’t hold back a full laugh as he watched the woman from his fantasies reach once again for the pillow biting into it.

He held the ice cube over her clit and a swig of whisky in his mouth watching singular drops of ice cold water land before swallowing the whisky and pressing the heat of his mouth against her. He repeated this three times before she was beyond pleasure and screaming for him to allow her release. He moved up the bed, covering her body with his, he felt the blissful mix of heat and cold as he entered her. Robin held him tight against her, her release instant as their bodies moved as one. He nuzzled into her neck, the familiar sweet sent of her hair bringing him to climax.

Twenty minutes later they were still lying side by side, tracing the lines of each- others bodies, silently absorbing the life changing events of the past few hours. Robin held the palm of her hand to the side of the face she had grown to love. She kissed his cheek, his nose and eyelids then drew her face away.

‘Cormoran?’ She asked

‘Mmm?’ He replied running his fingers through her hair.

‘Are you hungry?’

A playful smile tugged at the scar on his top lip as he let his eyes move down her body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there's not much dialogue, but it didn't really need it.  
> I couldn't picture either of them being overly communicative in these scenarios.


	8. The power of water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strike and Robin take their first steps together through Oxford as lovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lovely scene towards the end that requires a piece of music to accompany it to get the full impact, here's the link, reading it wont be the same without it. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3m97QwKIbAU.

Part two: The power of water.

 

Strike and Robin stepped out from their own sweet embrace into the welcoming arms of Oxford. Night had descended and so had the temperature. Strike drew Robin close, hoping to transfer some of his body heat, plus, having her there against him, his arm wrapped around her waist, her body perfectly synced with his, was also a wonderful reminder that he wasn’t dreaming, that this moment and the past 48 hours had actually happened, it wasn’t some cruel joke that his mind had taunted him with on and off since their very first encounter and over the past few month had not only crept more frequently into his dreams but had also filled many of his awake hours. He felt Robins body shudder briefly against the cold, which was in stark contrast to what he saw. Looking at her here beside him, all he saw was warmth, warmth in her features and warmth in her heart. She brought a comfort to him, he never thought was possible.

A soft sepia huge shone through the old city flooding it with romance and a general sense of happiness. Together they wandered down the narrow Turl Lane, toward Broad Street. It was this particular time of year when Oxford oozed warmth despite the zero temperature. Little temporary, wooden huts decorated with Christmas colours and fairy lights glowed against the dark sky. The smells of delicious street food and stalls selling Mulled wine drew in the crowds to the market. People huddled together, hands wrapped around comfort, soaking up the warmth from whatever food or beverage they were clinging to.

For Robin it was neither food or beverage she was clinging to for comfort, it was her heart strings, she could feel them tugging, straining against her chest, wanting to take flight. Her heart literally ached, bursting with joy and excitement. She was so filled with love for the man holding her against his side, radiating heat to her, that she thought she could burst. She smiled openly as her eyes took in layers and layers of beauty. The market stalls displaying Christmas ornaments, handcrafted woolen knits and little light up ceramic villages were too adorable for words. The sound of laughter seeping through the pub windows thick with condensation, the cobbled paths bathed in warm light emanating from the ornate lamp posts, all these things combined made her feel like the happiest woman in the world. But the one thing, well three little things, three little words actually, but they weren’t little, they were enormous, they where the reason Robin felt euphoric. Cormoran had said the words ‘I love you.’ She could still picture his face beaming at her as he spoke the words, the sincerity in his eyes, the passion in their embrace that followed. Her smile broadened, her arm wrapped tighter around him.

‘So…any particular cuisine tantalizing your taste buds?’ she asked, her own mind searching for something rich and smoky. Possibly linked to the fact that she had been so absorbed in the delightfully familiar and intoxicating smell of Cormoran. Anything at all to immerse herself just a wee bit more, she wanted to drown in him, his arms, his voice, the flavour of his skin. Robin knew she was in uncharted waters, all she wanted was to be engulfed by him, these were beyond moments of happiness, this was submergence bliss, she was in love beyond measure. She braced herself, for the twang she would feel in her heart before she looked up at him, noticing details to his features that were only evident to her now, now that they were lovers. Possibly an expression that she may have seen before but was only making sense to her now. A playful grin, an untold thought, an unexpected crumbling of boundary walls. He was allowing himself to be vulnerable, an open book, he wanted to be read, he was begging for her to turn another page, to be on the same one with him and she was but was waiting for the perfect moment.

Strike had heard Robin’s question, but in hearing food mentioned he automatically licked his top lip, where his mind was swept back to the glorious sensation of been deep between her thighs, the flavour of her still caught in his beard. He tried to suppress his grin as he stifled a deep yearning groan. ‘Mmm…’ His response was still coated in an unmistakable desire. He stopped and turned to her, his large warm hand gripped the back of her neck, he pressed the full front of his body into hers, his eyes penetrating through to her dissolved resolve ‘I was thinking Italian…a homemade delicacy, originating from Venice.’ He raised an eyebrow, hoping she would catch his drift. ‘I’ve already had the pleasure of dinning there today but I’d happily go down…I mean go back for seconds.’ Strike positioned his mouth close enough to hers that he could feel her rapid breath against his own wanting lips. The slightest move, the briefest hint of lack of self- control from either of them was teetering on the edge, begging them to lose control, to join their mouths, to ease the strain, to bring relief to their aching desires. ‘Fuck!’ He moaned into her ear, clearly showing his frustrations, ‘You’re just so moreish.’ Truthfully though, all Strike wanted to say, over and over again, were the words ‘I love you.’ Now that he had said them once they just wanted to pour out of him but he didn’t want Robin to feel as though she was pressured into repeating them to him. He saw the love she had for him, he had recognised it a while ago, although he’d never tell her as much, but he remembers clearly when he was able to admit to himself that he had indeed fallen in love with his work partner and when he had seen the same look in her eyes reflected back to him, he knew his feelings were not a lost cause, that he would eventually allow himself to be honest with her, to show her how deeply he had fallen for her. That time had come and it was the most memorable most beautiful moment of his life.

‘Maybe for desert.’ Robin had said grasping the fabric of his shirt in her hands, whispering in his ear ‘Strawberries…and’ She hummed the word coating it with thick seduction ‘…cream, mmm and maybe ice.’ The way she said ice, sent a shiver right down to Strikes groin. Robin said the sentence in full against his parted lips ‘Strawberries and ice and Venetian cream.’ God as much as she too wanted that, right here and now was not the place. Surrounded by on lookers who were clearly waiting for a public show of affection to applaud, since their tension had breached beyond just themselves but to those in their immediate proximity, waiting anxiously for one or the other to give in to their transparent wants.

Strike reluctantly drew his face back from hers, keeping a firm grasp to the back of her neck. ‘Mongolian.’ He said looking back over his shoulder ‘I guess I could settle for Mongolian, their spiced dumplings smell okay.’ He leaned into her skimming her neck with his mouth just below her ear, ‘pales in comparison though.’ He smiled at Robin, amused, her lips still parted, no doubt picturing what was in store for her later as he felt her hand clench at his side, like what she had done with the bedding as he brought her to…fuck now it was his thoughts that were getting carried away. He wrapped his fingers around hers ‘Come on, let’s get something to eat before things get out of hand.’

Polystyrene trays in hand, they wandered further down the street away from the flood of activity. They sat on the long steps of the Weston Library and marveled at the architecture that was across from them. Perfectly crafted stone, surrounded large arched windows, four rising pillars adorned the entrance to the Bodleian, whilst the bronze sentinels guarding from above and the wrought iron fencing brought forth a feeling of protection. 

 

Strike and Robin sat in comfortable silence, eating the most delicious dumplings Robin had ever tasted, drenched in a thick rich chilli sauce. Try though as she might, she couldn’t finish the large portion, offering the remaining two to Strike who was happy to accept the extras. She looked around for somewhere to grab them a drink. ‘Back in a minute.’ She said leaving Strike nodding with a mouthful. Robin returned with what looked like two large disposable coffee cups, tentatively she handed one to him. ‘Should I be worried?’ He asked bringing the cup to his nose trying to smell it through the lid. Robin couldn’t hide the smirk on her face. ‘It’s Mulled wine.’ She took a sip and tried not to choke on it, she looked away from him so she wouldn’t burst into laughter. She took a bigger sip swallowing it down quickly. ‘Your face isn’t filling me with confidence Robin. Mulled bloody wine.’ He shook his head in mock disgust as he removed his lid.

Robin started to chuckle. “There seems to be a few things going on in there.’ She tilted her head behind her to indicate inside the Weston Library ‘do you mind if we have a quick look, get in out the cold for a bit?’ She took the dumpling container from him allowing him to use the rail to pull himself up. ‘And’ she added ‘the woman that served me’ she held up her cup referring to the offending liquid ‘admitted that they were mostly out of the wine ingredient, so it’s mostly brandy, best just to down it quickly, let it warm us through.’ She looked at Strikes horrified face. ‘Come on then’ she encouraged ‘I will if you do. Then we can go in for a bit, let our food settle before moving on to a pub.’ She had said it with such confidence that Strike couldn’t refuse. He looked at her, cup in hand, ready to take on the challenge, waiting for him to accept her terms and conditions. ‘Bribery’ He said this a light scorn ‘Motivation’ She chirped back. She turned away from him, refusing to laugh and swallowed two large mouthfuls. She turned back to him, so pleased that she had swallowed otherwise she would have spurted it. She had never seen so much disgust on his face, not even when looking at mutilated corpses. ‘Fucking Christ.’ He grumbled he looked up to see Robin sliding her finger around the edge of his container, mopping up the remaining chilli sauce and sucking it off her fingers. ‘That’s cheating.’ He said lunging for both her and the chilli goodness. She just laughed and stepped away form him. But she gave in just as quickly, dipping her fingers back in again and offering them to him. He looked deep into her eyes as he sucked the sauce from her fingers, using his tongue to slide between the two. They stepped towards each other, both feasting on the sensation. A passer by gave a cough to bring them back to reality. 

‘Right’ she said, slowly removing her fingers from his mouth, his dark eyes still engaged with hers ‘shall we?’ 

They walked into the large open space almost like they were on an investigation. There was no body contact between them. Strikes heart was still racing, the burning inside his mouth from both the chilli and brandy drink fueling his desire to hold her, kiss her, long and deep, without interruption. He needed to calm these thoughts before he could touch her again. 

Robin wandered through the space looking at the rare books that were displayed in glass cabinets, each with a Christmas theme. It was a very modern area with large white walls. She cast her eye over to Strike, the size of the surrounding room absorbing his large frame, his long coat gaping open revealing a white shirt covered mostly by a black jacket. She was admiring him when he caught her looking at him, he looked at her right back and started to make his way over. 

(Start music link now)  
The lights dimmed, darker and darker with each step he took towards her enhancing the electricity between them. Classical music started to play through overhead speakers. Then the wall behind Robin lit up. Calm ocean waters were projected onto it, stunning blues and greens swaying over the walls, the image slowly changed to overhead views of vast reefs and sunken atolls. The few people that were also in the room moved around to get a better view. Robin reached for his hand, totally absorbed by the spectacle, her body swaying slightly to both the music and the projection. Heavier string instruments joined the light percussion and wind instruments. The still waters turned giving way to surging seas, the powerful pull of the ocean creating large crashing waves. Robin felt Cormorans hand tighten around hers, he lifted it slowly to the side of his face bringing it around, pressing his lips to her fingers, there was a burning heat between them as water crashed against rock. She turned to him, they stood lost in each other’s eyes, each breath becoming heavier, desperate to embrace.

Before Robin could fathom what she was doing she was leading away from the large open space along a darkened corridor, he followed her ever increasing steps. She was looking for a nook a doorway anything where she could take him in her arms. She tried one door handle and then another to no avail. Strike found a lift door and pushed the button, knowing it would lead to privacy. ‘Cormoran, no’ Robin breathed heavy, ‘I want to hear the music.’ She had given up looking, she pulled him into a closed-door way offering the tiniest amount of coverage, feverishly she ran her fingers through his hair grabbing at the base of his neck she reached her mouth to his, he was also beyond trying to stay in control, his hand caught up under her hair, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist, their mouths open, gasping breaths tongues wrapped around sliding deep as the music swirled around them. Her hands moved down to his chest, she lay her palm over his heart, she could feel the rhythmic thud beneath her skin, ‘Cormoran’ She separated her mouth from his, her own heart near beating out of her chest ‘Cormoran…I...’

‘Come on you two break it up, get a room for crying out loud.’ The security guard had stopped them in their tracks, well more Robin than Strike who was still holding her to him, kissing the top of her head. 

Robin gave a slightly embarrassed smile before leading strike back into the large open space and straight out through the front doors. ‘Bollocks’ she said to herself looking down at her feet. ‘Back in a second’ he said planting another kiss on her head, his hand releasing the clasp he had on her shoulder. A minute passed before he reappeared.

‘Right off to the pub then.’ He wrapped his arm back around her shoulder and looked lovingly down at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were able to listen to the piece of music through that crucial scene, the kiss happens around the three minute thirty mark. It's just so powerful. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
